


Eclipse

by MangaFreak15



Series: SakuAtsu in love [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crying, Depressed Miya Atsumu, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Samaritan Sakusa Kiyoomi, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Learning to move on, M/M, Miya Atsumu Needs a Hug, POV Miya Atsumu, Past Kita Shinsuke/Miya Atsumu, Pre-Relationship, Sad Miya Atsumu, Self-Esteem Issues, Soft Sakusa Kiyoomi, Stand Alone, Suicide Attempt, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MangaFreak15/pseuds/MangaFreak15
Summary: “…Do you want to talk about it?” he says. “I’m not the best at comforting people, but I can listen, if you want.”“Ya’d do that for a total stranger?” Atsumu replies mirthlessly, hunching his shoulders so that he appears smaller. “Even if I’m…“ He trails off, unable to give voice to the thought that he’s a worthless, unlovable piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to be happy.Sakusa bumps his knee against Atsumu’s, jolting him out of his spiral. “I may not know what’s going on in your head or in your life, but I do know from personal experience that it helps to get the emotions out instead of bottling them up inside of you. No matter what the issue is, I promise not to judge you.”After Atsumu gets dumped at the altar, he tries to drown himself in despair. A passing stranger saves him and offers to listen to him, and in the end, Atsumu comes out with a new friend and maybe something more.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu & Suna Rintarou, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: SakuAtsu in love [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2169279
Comments: 8
Kudos: 208





	Eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I've been writing too many happy stories lately, time for some **A N G S T**
> 
> I almost made myself cry while writing this
> 
> TW: suicidal thoughts and heavy angst, implied past toxic relationship
> 
> Sakusa Kiyoomi does not have mysophobia in this fic

Mirror, mirror on the wall

Who’s the fairest of them all?

Before, Atsumu would have said Kita Shinsuke. A beautiful man who inspired respect and fear in equal parts, with his smooth black-tipped, silvery hair and mild disposition, ready to dole out words of compassion and admonishment to anyone who he felt needed them. Shinsuke, with his smooth hands and heavenly laugh. Shinsuke, with his morning kisses and meals prepared for Atsumu at all times of the day. Shinsuke, with his willingness to see past Atsumu’s faults and love him in spite of them. Atsumu’s lovely fiancé.

Well, he reflects bitterly, it’s _former_ fiancé now.

He had thought that Shinsuke had been _the one,_ even though the other man had held Atsumu at arm’s length for a long time, even though the other man hadn’t wanted to go public until nearly three years into their relationship, even though the other man had only wanted a small wedding limited to their friends and family. But nothing—and Atsumu means _nothing—_ could have prepared him for the utter humiliation of being left at the altar. Atsumu had rented an expensive tuxedo just for the occasion, had allowed the stylist to fuss over his appearance down to the smallest details, had talked and laughed and joked with his brother mere hours before he had realized, with cold dread, that Shinsuke would not come to their wedding.

He hadn’t even been in agony; just numb. It was a good thing that Shinsuke requested a small wedding. Only a few people had witnessed his disgrace, mainly Osamu and Rintarou, and their parents. Atsumu had barely acknowledged Shinsuke’s parents as they profusely apologized to him for their son’s shameful actions.

Osamu had taken his arm afterwards and led him back to the prep room, not saying a word except that he’s sorry that he let this happen. Atsumu hadn’t reacted at all, just stared at the floor, broken. He hadn’t cried, either. The void in him had been so great that it had swallowed him up, tears and all.

He’s not crying even now, as he leans on the railing of a bridge crossing a wide river. The water is murky and still, just like his feelings. He still loves Shinsuke, but right now, even thinking of the other man is like stabbing shards of glass into his heart. Atsumu is stuck in that moment, when he had checked the time and realized that Shinsuke was two hours late despite his claims that he despises being late to anything, and nobody knew where he was. At first he had thought that maybe some accident had befallen him, but as another hour ticked by with no word from his fiancé or police or any hospitals, he had known right then that Shinsuke wasn’t coming.

Shinsuke wouldn’t come to their wedding.

It had hurt beyond imagination. But it had hurt even more that Shinsuke hadn’t tried to call it off in person. Even the night before, Shinsuke had looked at him with a smile and kissed him goodnight and had told him, “See ya tomorrow, Atsumu.”

Atsumu had gone back to their apartment with the wedding gifts, and found it empty of everything that belonged to Shinsuke. His clothes, his ornaments, his plants, everything that hadn’t been shared between the two of them was gone. Shinsuke hadn’t taken any of their pictures with him, nor had he taken any of the things they had bought together as a couple. Like he had wanted to cut anything related to Atsumu out of his life.

And there on the nightstand had laid his wedding ring, along with a note that simply said, _I’m sorry._ Nothing else. No explanation for the sudden decision to disappear. The note hadn’t even been signed with his name, but Atsumu had known it was him all the same because of the neat, slanted handwriting carved into the little piece of paper. He hadn’t cried then, either.

It’s dark out, Atsumu’s only company being a lonely street lamp that looks halfway to flickering out and leaving him for good. Just like Shinsuke. He doesn’t recall how he got here or when, just that Rintarou had offered to take him to the nearest bar to let him get wasted. Atsumu had been sorely tempted to take him up on the offer, but he also knew that if he did that, he’d absolutely feel even worse in the morning. So he had declined, and wandered off somewhere after telling him and Osamu not to follow him.

Somehow, his feet had led him here.

Atsumu contemplates the water flowing beneath him. How would it feel to step over the railing and jump in right now? If he dies in this river, how long would it be until anyone finds him? Would people even be sad that he’s gone? Would Shinsuke grieve for him? He closes his eyes, imagining stepping into the water and sinking to the bottom, feeling the water fill his lungs until he suffocates. It’s… not bad. It’ll hurt, but Atsumu doesn’t think that anything can hurt as much as being left at the altar. He doesn’t know if he can go on after this, if even someone like Kita Shinsuke doesn’t think that he’s worth loving long-term. Maybe to Shinsuke, this was an easy decision to make, but to Atsumu, a future without Shinsuke just isn’t worth living.

He flicks an assessing look at the riverbank. There’s a low stone wall separating the bank from the river, but it’s easily climbable. Atsumu moves towards it almost robotically, exhaustion dogging his footsteps. It’ll be over soon. Just a little further.

Atsumu’s phone vibrates for the hundredth time as he’s sliding down the riverbank. Without looking, he knows it’s Osamu desperately trying to get ahold of him. They’re twins, it’s a no-brainer that Osamu probably knows exactly what kind of mindset Atsumu is in right now. He’ll be leaving his twin behind when he dies, and it’ll definitely hurt, but Atsumu thinks that if it’s Osamu, he can learn to move on. Osamu is calmer, more level-headed, more sensible, more everything that Atsumu is not. And he has Rintarou to help him. Atsumu is alone. He’d thought that he had Shinsuke in his corner, but well, look how _that_ turned out.

Atsumu reaches the wall, toeing off his socks and shoes and setting them to the side. He mutes his phone without looking at any of the texts he’s missed, but instead of putting it away, he sets it on top of the wall. Then he climbs over and sits on top, letting his bare toes trail into the cold water. He looks up, wondering if he can see anything in the sky that will bear witness to his final moments.

There’s nothing there; it’s a new moon tonight. Atsumu lets out a humorless chuckle as he returns his gaze to the water. Of course he’s alone in every aspect of the word. Well, at least that means no one will get in his way, either, he supposes.

He takes his phone and opens his messaging app, intending to send only a single text out. To the person that he’ll regret leaving behind the most: his twin brother.

As if sensing his intention, his phone lights up with another call. Atsumu shakes his head ruefully, hitting the reject button. Then he types, _I’m sorry._ Pauses, because those are the same words written on that slip of paper underneath Shinsuke’s abandoned wedding ring. Does he really want to leave Osamu with a half-baked answer like that?

(No.)

So he adds:

_Osamu,_

_I’m sorry you had to put up with my crap for 25 years. But not anymore, I’ll be going ahead of you now. Thanks for loving me, I guess. I love you, and goodbye._

And, because he’s too much of a coward to wait for a reply, he tosses his phone into the river and watches it sink into the depths, just as he’ll soon be doing. Atsumu looks up at the night sky one more time, trying to feel any sense of regret, any sense of remorse or fear or something that will keep him from trying to leave.

Nothing’s there.

Atsumu breathes deeply, then slides into the water. This late at night, the water is quite cold, but not to the point of freezing because summer is near. The water initially only comes up to his thighs, but wading in a bit further brings it up near his chest. Then up to his neck, then his chin. He stops walking when the water starts lapping at his mouth and offers one last look at the sky and its moonless night.

_Bye, Samu. Bye, Rin. It’s been fun._

Atsumu doesn’t take a breath as he finally allows himself to sink beneath the surface. His lungs burn as he inhales water, but he doesn’t fight it. It hurts and it’s messy and slow suffocation is probably the most unpleasant way to go out, but maybe this is his punishment. Osamu only puts up with him out of obligation because he’s family, Rintarou only tolerates him because of Osamu, other people think he’s arrogant and obnoxious and a pain in the ass. And Shinsuke has clearly shown him that Atsumu isn’t worth loving.

His vision starts getting spotty, darkness encroaching upon him. He closes his eyes, the scream of his lungs for oxygen growing more pronounced.

Then something grabs him by the waist and hauls him up. Atsumu’s eyes shoot open in surprise right as his head forcefully breaks the surface. He seizes, violently coughing out water and saliva as he gasps for air, eyes tearing up. His ears ring and his head hurts and he feels extremely sick bent over some stranger’s arm like this.

“—the fuck you were thinking trying to drown yourself, you moron.”

Atsumu stops hacking up water, but he heaves, trying to catch his breath. He weakly turns his head to glare at the person who thought they were saving him through sopping wet bangs.

“Ffffckkyaa,” he slurs, trying to push the stranger away. “I was _try’na_ die an’ya int’rupted me.”

The arm around his waist tightens and Atsumu yelps as the unknown person drags him back to shore. “Yeah, well, too fucking bad. I’m not about to let someone die right in front of me, no matter how stupid they are,” the person says. A man, by the low timbre of his voice. Atsumu doesn’t have the strength to fight back, all his energy drained out by his suicide attempt. He should’ve just jumped off the bridge; would’ve been faster.

The man carries him back over the stone wall bridal-style, to Atsumu’s embarrassment. The air is cold against his wet skin, making goosebumps break out instantly. Atsumu shivers, hard. He clings to the other man as he makes his way up the riverbank to where a car is parked by the side of the road.

“Can you stand?” Atsumu nods, and he’s set back on his feet. He sways a little, but steadies himself with a hand on the car. The stranger opens his trunk, taking out two towels. He throws one at Atsumu’s head.

“You’re lucky I still had these in the back,” he grumbles, slamming the trunk closed. He flings his own towel over his head and rubs his hair roughly. “Come on, dry yourself as much as you can. We’re going back to my apartment so we can wash up properly.”

Atsumu drags the towel half-heartedly over his own hair, eyes downcast. This guy is probably only being nice to him out of pity. Once Atsumu opens his fat mouth and starts talking, he’ll wish that he was rid of him, too.

The stranger opens the passenger door, gesturing for him to get in. “Put your towel on the seat first, dry side down,” he commands. Atsumu mutely complies, sliding into the car without a word. The guy shuts the door and goes over to the driver’s side.

The ride back to the unknown person’s apartment doesn’t take very long. Atsumu takes a moment to study the guy who saved him from drowning in the river. He’s very handsome, all pale skin, aristocratic cheekbones, dark curly hair and matching eyes. His lips are pressed into a tight line like he’s displeased about something. That something probably being Atsumu. He sighs, turning his head to look out the window. He suddenly feels exhausted.

The next thing he knows, someone is shaking his shoulder. “Hey, wake up. We’re here.” Atsumu blinks his eyes open sleepily.

“Where?” he groans, swinging one leg out of the car.

“My apartment. Come on, let’s get you warmed up.” Atsumu wobbles his way out, leaning heavily on to the stranger as he shuts the door and locks his car.

As they step into the elevator in the lobby, Atsumu whispers, “Why’re ya bein’ so nice t’me?”

The guy spares him a glance. “It’s basic human decency,” he says, pushing the button for the ninth floor. “Something that it seems like you could use after whatever happened to you today.”

Ha, that’s funny. Some random stranger has more of a concept of human decency than his own goddamn ex-fiancé. Atsumu lets out a dry, humorless laugh, his voice cracking on a sob, “That’s fuckin’ bullshit.”

“Save your arguments for when you’re not delirious from the lack of oxygen.”

The elevator doors open and they step into a brightly-lit hallway. The guy digs a card key out of his wallet and swipes it through the slot over the handle of his apartment door, waiting for a green light and a click before he’s pushing the door open. He flicks the light switch on, flooding the room with a warm yellow light.

“Wait here, I’ll grab some towels and a change of clothes for you,” the guy says, leaving Atsumu in the living room while he disappears down the hallway, presumably to his bedroom. Atsumu shivers in the chilly air, his clothes sticking to him unpleasantly. This is a very nice apartment, if a bit minimalistic. It’s very clean, though. The stranger returns a moment later and leads Atsumu into the bathroom.

“After your little stunt earlier, I don’t trust that you won’t try to drown yourself in the bathtub, so I’ll bathe with you. Will that make you uncomfortable?” he asks, turning the water on.

At any other time, Atsumu might be embarrassed, but now he’s too tired to care. He shrugs, “Do whatcha want.” He begins to mechanically strip out of his wet clothing, stuffing them into the bag that the other guy provides for him. He fights the urge to cover himself. Atsumu isn’t ashamed of his body, but with the firm belief that he’s unlovable now entrenched in his mind, he wonders just how ugly he really is.

The man doesn’t seem to care about nudity either, as he takes off his wet clothes without a care. He has a really nice body. Lean and strong with moles generously sprinkled over his fair skin. If Atsumu was being honest, this guy has a better body than Shinsuke. Maybe if he wasn’t so completely shattered over being dumped at the altar, he would appreciate it more. But he can’t bring himself to muster anything more than passing interest right now. It still hurts that Shinsuke isn’t here with him, that Shinsuke isn’t the one taking care of him when he’s a mess. It’s agonizing that he’s apparently not the one who can make Shinsuke happy. Frankly, it would have hurt less if Shinsuke had been honest with him about this, instead of leaving him behind with an empty ring and two meaningless words written on a scrap of paper. At least Atsumu would have had proper closure and a way to move on.

The bathroom comes equipped with both a rinsing station and a giant bathtub. Atsumu sits down on the low stool that’s provided for him.

“Come ta think o’ it, I ne’er got yer name,” Atsumu says drowsily, closing his eyes as the guy shampoos his hair.

“It’s Sakusa. Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“Sakusa… ‘m Atsumu. I’d say it was nice t’meetcha, but I prob’ly didn’t give ya the best first impression, huh?”

Sakusa rinses him off, then cleans himself up. “Just Atsumu?” he asks.

Atsumu doesn’t want to say his family name, Miya, because it’s just another reminder of something else that Shinsuke will never become. He already wasn’t partial to it just because he and Osamu were mistaken for each other so much before he dyed his hair, but now the name ‘Miya’ is like having a hot knife inserted between his ribs and twisted.

“Yeah. Just Atsumu,” he confirms. Sakusa respectfully doesn’t try to pry.

Once the bathtub is full, they both get in. Atsumu sighs as the hot water warms him up instantly, surrounding him in blissful heat that he can feel all the way down to his weary bones. He practically melts into a pile of useless goo, leaning heavily against the wall.

He and Sakusa are facing each other, Sakusa’s legs caging Atsumu’s. Despite the large bathtub size, it’s still a bit small to fit two six-foot-something men comfortably, but they make it work. Sakusa’s dark eyes bore into his.

“…Do you want to talk about it?” he says. “I’m not the best at comforting people, but I can listen, if you want.”

“Ya’d do that for a total stranger?” Atsumu replies mirthlessly, hunching his shoulders so that he appears smaller. “Even if I’m…“ He trails off, unable to give voice to the thought that he’s a worthless, unlovable piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to be happy.

Sakusa bumps his knee against Atsumu’s, jolting him out of his spiral. “I may not know what’s going on in your head or in your life, but I do know from personal experience that it helps to get the emotions out instead of bottling them up inside of you. No matter what the issue is, I promise not to judge you.”

Atsumu didn’t cry at the realization that Shinsuke had left him for good, nor did he cry at the thought of dying and leaving his brother behind. Then this stranger says two sentences to him and he’s got Atsumu full-out bawling in the bathtub, fat tears spilling out and over his cheeks and dripping down his chin, his anguished screams bouncing off the walls in a heart-wrenching symphony. He’s an ugly crier, he knows this because Osamu has told him too many times. Yet, even as his hands fly up in an attempt to stem the crying, Sakusa just watches him without disgust, only empathy. It’s liberating, when even Shinsuke couldn’t handle him crying without looking uncomfortable to some degree.

It takes about ten minutes for Atsumu to stop sobbing like a baby. It feels like a huge weight has been taken off of his chest and now, he can finally breathe again.

“Feeling better now?” Sakusa asks.

“Yeah,” Atsumu croaks, splashing some of the bath water on to his face to erase the tear tracks. “Thanks.”

“No problem. So, do you want to talk about it?”

“Uh, sure. But maybe not in here.”

“Oh, of course.” Sakusa retracts his legs and stands up, stepping out of the bath gracefully, water sloughing off his frame attractively. Atsumu follows him a moment later, gratefully accepting the offered towel.

Sakusa’s shirt is a bit loose on him and his pants a tad too long, but they’re very comfortable. The dark-haired man seats him on the loveseat and swathes him in the softest blankets he owns. “Do you like hot chocolate?” he asks, moving into his kitchen.

Atsumu perks up a bit. “Yeah, I do. With marshmallows, if ya have any!”

Sakusa laughs, and it’s a pretty sound, low and rich in a way that’s completely different from Shinsuke’s laughter. Atsumu’s heart doesn’t quite skip a beat, but he does acknowledge that he’s starting to find the other man charming now that he isn’t completely gone for his ex-fiancé. Maybe he can move on, after all. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

Sakusa whips up a mug of hot chocolate for Atsumu and some tea for himself. He sits next to Atsumu, just outside of the pile of blankets that he had procured for his guest, and hands him the steaming cup of sweet, chocolatey goodness.

“Ah,” Atsumu savors the rich smell, cradling the warm mug between his hands. “Thanks. I dunno why yer bein’ so nice ta me, but I ‘preciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Sometimes, all it takes is for one person to reach out,” Sakusa replies, raising his own cup to his lips and taking a delicate sip.

Atsumu lets out an amused huff, then looks bewildered by himself. He hadn’t expected to find joy in anything after being so cruelly dumped, but life’s full of surprises, he supposes. “Thanks fer bein’ that one person, then. And y’know, I know I was pretty rude t’ya when ya were draggin’ me outta the water an’ I haven’t gotten ta say it, but thanks fer that, too. I definitely… haven’t been in the best state o’ mind today,” he admits ruefully. He swirls the hot cocoa in his cup, considering his next words. “Because, well… my fiancé, uh—left me. At the altar.” He cringes immediately. God, it sounds so much worse when he says it out loud.

“Oh, I see. That is truly unfortunate,” Sakusa says, a sympathetic tilt to his lips.

Atsumu nods mutely. “It hurt a lot, especially because he didn’t try to end things in person,” he says quietly, briefly lost in the memories. “He didn’t show up to our wedding even three hours after it was supposed ta start, an’ when I got home, he’d already moved out an’ left the ring behind. No explanation besides ‘I’m sorry.’ It really… devastated me.”

Sakusa nods, drinking his tea. “And that’s why you were at the river today?”

“Yeah.” Atsumu doesn’t say more than this, unwilling to expose the part of him that feels that he’s a freak and Shinsuke was right to leave him because he’s just no good. But then again, if he hadn’t been at the river tonight, he wouldn’t have met Sakusa. Kind, considerate Sakusa, who didn’t have to save a drowning man, who didn’t have to take him home and help clean him up, who didn’t have to listen to his woes. So then… Atsumu won’t call it a good thing, because it isn’t, but at the very least, maybe this is how things were meant to be. Closing one door in life means opening up another.

He’s going to have to apologize to Osamu later. His brother’s probably freaking out, but Atsumu can’t find it in him to give him a call right now.

He pauses as he’s about to take a sip of his hot chocolate. Wait… doesn’t Osamu know Shinsuke’s number, too?

Oh god. What if Osamu calls Shinsuke and screams at him because he thinks Atsumu killed himself? He has to do damage control before it escalates to something worse. Osamu may be the more sensible twin between them, but he never fails to go full-berserker mode if anything ever happens to Atsumu. And since he had borne witness to his twin getting humiliated by someone they had both respected and looked up to? Osamu is going to absolutely shank a bitch if Atsumu doesn’t call him _right now._

Atsumu drains the rest of his hot chocolate in a hurry. “Hey, can I borrow yer phone? I threw mine in the river earlier, and I, uh, need ta apologize ta someone,” he says sheepishly, shifting a few blankets around so that they’re pooled around him from the waist down instead of completely wrapping him up.

“Sure.” Sakusa gets up and retrieves his smartphone, unlocking it and handing it to Atsumu.

Atsumu dials his brother’s phone number by heart and holds the phone to his ear, fingers twisting at one of the blankets nervously. It rings five times before Osamu picks up.

“H’llo?”

Yikes, it’s even worse than he had thought. Atsumu’s heart clenches guiltily when he registers how _broken_ his twin sounds over the phone. He did this to Osamu. He has to fix it, somehow. He clears his throat, speaking haltingly, “Hey, Samu. Um, it’s—it’s me. Atsumu.”

There is a very long, pregnant pause where neither of them speak.

“…Yer lyin’,” Osamu says flatly. “If this is yer idea of a sick joke—”

“I’m not. Look, I know I sent that message earlier, but I, uh, I wanna take it back—”

“I don’t know who ya are, but my brother is _dead._ So if ya keep insistin’ on mimickin’ him, I’ll—”

“Gah, listen t’me, ya asshole! Ignore the message from earlier! I’m still alive, okay?!” Atsumu yells, scowling. “An’ I can prove it’s me ‘cause nobody else knows what ya really did ta Ma’s makeup kit when we were seven—”

There’s a loud, screechy static sound that has Atsumu jerking the phone away from his ear with a wince, like Osamu had dropped his phone on the floor. He cautiously puts it back, saying, “Oi, Samu, ya still there?”

There’s a murmur of voices in the background as if Osamu is frantically speaking to another person, most likely Rintarou. Atsumu is proven correct when someone else answers the phone instead of his twin the next time he goes _oiiii_ into the speaker.

“Atsumu?” Rintarou sounds just as wary as Osamu.

“Hey, Rin. Couldja put Samu back on ‘cause I wasn’t done talkin’ t’him—”

“Osamu is currently indisposed and is in no shape to speak with you.”

“Wha—”

“Give me your location. I’ll come get you right now,” Rin says brusquely. “And don’t you dare think of wandering off without us again. You’re going to explain to us _exactly_ what you meant with that fucking suicidal goodbye message, you utter asshat.”

“…Right,” Atsumu says, feeling properly cowed. “Hang on.” He pulls the phone away from his ear to look at Sakusa. “Um, my brother’s boyfriend is gonna come pick me up. What’s the address for this building?”

Sakusa rattles off the address, which Atsumu dutifully relays back to Rintarou.

“I’m on my way. Don’t move,” Rintarou warns. Then he hangs up.

Atsumu sighs, passing the phone back to Sakusa. “I thought you needed to apologize to someone?” Sakusa asks, amused. He wipes the phone with a tissue.

“Uh, yeah, pretend ya didn’t hear all o’ that,” Atsumu says, wincing. “I was gonna say sorry to my brother, but he didn’t believe it was me ‘cause I sent him a goodbye message before I—well, y’know.” _Tried to kill myself,_ he doesn’t say.

Sakusa nods and stands up, taking both his and Atsumu’s mugs back to the sink so he can wash them. Atsumu wraps the blankets around himself again, sinking back into the loveseat. It’s… actually pretty nice here. He can’t recall a single time that Shinsuke ever offered him hot chocolate or wrapped him up in a blanket cocoon like this. When he mulls over this, it feels like he can reflect on his past relationship without the rose-tinted lenses. Sure, it still feels like he’s stabbing himself in the heart every time he thinks of Shinsuke’s smile and Shinsuke’s warmth and Shinsuke tossing him aside like yesterday’s trash, but he doesn’t feel quite as scraped-raw as he had when he’d been standing on that bridge over the river. Maybe… Shinsuke hadn’t been _the one,_ as Atsumu had so foolishly believed for so many years. It hurts, but Atsumu knows that Shinsuke’s gone and he won’t be coming back to him. So maybe… maybe he should try to move on, too.

Atsumu starts when Sakusa gently taps him on the head. “Get up, we have to go downstairs. Your friend is here.”

“Oh, right.” Atsumu mourns the loss of the blankets as he slips off of the loveseat. “Erm, are ya okay with me wearin’ these home?” He gestures to Sakusa’s clothes that he’s wearing.

“Well, there’s nothing else you can wear right now,” Sakusa says, handing him the plastic bag containing Atsumu’s soaked clothing. “Just wash them and give them back another time.”

Atsumu allows himself to smile, as small and fragile as it is. “Yer so nice, Sakusa. I’m really lucky that ya dragged me outta the river,” he breathes.

Sakusa shrugs. “Basic human decency, like I said.”

Atsumu doesn’t believe that that’s all there is to it, since most other people probably would have just called the paramedics to come take him instead of taking care of him themselves. But he doesn’t question it. Sakusa _did_ save him, and let him cry all his messy emotions out, and gave him hot chocolate with marshmallows, and really proved that he was a bonafide Good Person tonight. Atsumu hopes that they can become friends after this.

Because Atsumu’s shoes had been left behind at the riverbank, Sakusa lets him borrow a pair of sandals. They take the elevator back down to the lobby, where Rintarou is impatiently waiting. He sees Atsumu first and makes a beeline for him.

Atsumu expects to be punched or slapped or yelled at, but he’s not expecting Rintarou to engulf him in a bear hug. A surprised yelp escapes him as Rintarou squeezes him tightly. “R-Rin? What’s gotten int’ya?”

Rintarou pulls back, clapping both hands on Atsumu’s shoulders. “You’re an asshole,” he says simply, “but I’m really glad that you’re still alive.” He smiles, his gaze slipping off of Atsumu and on to Sakusa. “Are you the one who helped him?”

“Yes. My name is Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Rintarou holds out a hand. “Suna Rintarou. Thank you for taking care of this idiot—” _“Hey!”_ “—and I’ll take him off of your hands now.”

“Not a problem. I’m happy to be of help,” Sakusa says, offering his own hand. They shake on it solemnly. Then Sakusa steps forward, handing Atsumu a folded slip of paper. “Atsumu. Call me if you ever need someone to talk to again.”

Atsumu opens it to see a phone number scrawled on it. A few stray tears collect at the corners of his eyes, although they don’t fall. “Thanks, Sakusa,” he sniffles, rubbing at his eyes. “I really owe ya, don’t I?”

“Don’t go jumping into any more rivers and we’ll call it even.”

Atsumu laughs wetly even as Rintarou gives him a sharp glance, “I won’t, I promise.” He pauses, looking back at Sakusa contemplatively. “Y’know, I ne’er did tell ya my full name, did I?”

“Only tell me if you’re comfortable with it,” Sakusa says.

He’s not, at least not entirely comfortable because of what the name _Miya_ represents to him, but it’s still part of his name. Shinsuke won’t become one, but perhaps it wasn’t a name that he deserved in the first place. Atsumu wants to bury his memories of Shinsuke as ‘Kita Shinsuke’ rather than the ‘Miya Shinsuke’ that he could’ve been. And maybe that’s okay, too. One day, he’ll look back to this day and wonder what he’d been so upset over. Life goes on, even if it hurts and drags you down to the depths of hell and makes you wish you’d never been born. But once you’ve hit rock-bottom, the only way to go is up.

Atsumu smiles. “It’s Miya. Miya Atsumu.”

“Miya Atsumu,” Sakusa echoes. “It suits you.”

Atsumu’s heart really does skip a beat this time. Oh no.

“Alright, come on now. Osamu’s waiting for us,” Rintarou cuts in, taking Atsumu by the arm as if he’s afraid that Atsumu will run away again. “Thanks again, Sakusa. We’ll be going now.”

“Goodnight, and safe travels.” Sakusa waves them off as they leave the apartment building.

When Atsumu gets to Rintarou’s car, he doesn’t get in right away. “Rin… I’m sor—” he starts to say.

“Don’t,” Rintarou interrupts him harshly. Atsumu falls silent, casting his eyes downward dejectedly. The other man smacks his own forehead. “Oh gods, I didn’t mean it like that, Atsumu. I meant, I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

“…Right.” The only one he owes an apology to is his brother. When they get back, he’s going to hug his asshole twin so hard and never doubt their love for each other again. They’re twins, they’re a set package. If Atsumu had died, he might as well have killed Osamu himself. So, he really does need to make up for worrying him.

“And,” Rintarou continues, looking straight at Atsumu with an angry twist of his mouth, “we both know that you’re the one who deserves an apology the most. What Kita did to you is… it was probably the cruelest thing that he’s ever done to you. You’re an ass on your best day, but even you don’t deserve that kind of humiliation.”

Atsumu stares at his brother’s boyfriend, agape. “…Even if I’m unlovable and worthless?” he sobs, the words coming out before he can stop them.

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” Rintarou mutters under his breath, closing the driver’s door so he can circle back around to Atsumu. He hugs Atsumu again, patting his back as Atsumu cries into his shoulder. “Listen, Atsumu. Forget about Kita, okay? What he did to you is unforgivable. I don’t know what he’s said to you, but I don’t want to ever hear you degrade yourself like that again. You’re Miya Atsumu, one of the most confident guys I know. Don’t let Kita take that away from you.”

Atsumu sniffles, “Okay.”

The dark-haired man lets him go, fishing out a pack of tissues from his car so that Atsumu can wipe his face and blow his nose. Then they get into the car and Rintarou starts driving back to his and Osamu’s apartment. Atsumu rests his head against the window, one hand clutching the piece of paper with Kiyoomi’s number written on it.

It’s almost one in the morning now. He’s thoroughly exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster that he’s gone through today and it’s no surprise that he falls into a deep slumber, not even waking when Osamu and Rintarou carry him inside.

Things aren’t okay right now, but they will be. Atsumu had thought himself alone after Shinsuke had abandoned him, but that’s not true. Osamu and Rintarou do actually care about him, not out of pity or familial obligation, but genuinely. And later on, once word gets out, other friends come by to offer gifts and condolences, with varying promises to give Kita hell for what he’s put Atsumu through. Osamu even buys him a new phone, with minimal grumbling. It’s almost like being swaddled up in Sakusa’s blankets all over again, full of warmth and kindness that Atsumu had been too blind to see when his world had revolved solely around Kita Shinsuke.

Now, he’s just grateful. Tired, certainly, and an emotional mess as he struggles to try to get over his ex-fiancé, but grateful for all of the friends and family that he has supporting him.

Especially for Sakusa, who does actually answer the phone when Atsumu calls him, crying and sobbing and whimpering about why Shinsuke hadn’t wanted to keep him. Even if it’s three in the morning and Atsumu had just woken up from a nightmare of Shinsuke pushing him off a bridge into the river, Sakusa still picks up. He talks him through each episode calmly, waiting on the phone with him until Atsumu regains some control over himself or falls back asleep.

Slowly, as the months go by, Atsumu thinks about Shinsuke less and less. The glass shards piercing his heart are now nothing more than faint pangs of wistfulness, what-could-have-beens that are quick to disperse when Atsumu considers what he wants in his future. Or rather, _who_ he wants in his future.

And then, one day, Atsumu wakes up and doesn’t think of Kita Shinsuke at all.

Two years to the day that Atsumu had been left at the altar, he holds his phone in his one hand and thinks that he’s finally ready to start something again.

_Hey, Kiyoomi. Do you want to go on a date with me?_

He hits send.

**Author's Note:**

> It really does help to have even one person reach out to you when you're depressed, or even just one person who you can talk to about these kinds of issues. This is coming from someone who was borderline suicidal at 21, so take it as you will.
> 
> Please leave a comment before you go~


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